A Dark Power Arises:Freedom of the Wicked
by Redtown
Summary: LOTRHP Melkor, the first Dark Power of MiddleEarth has broken free of his chains in the Void. After watching the world evolve for an eternity Melkor has his sights set on his only hope for freedom: Harry Potter. A new power shall arise.
1. Chapter 1

**A Dark Power Arises:**

**Freedom of the Wicked**

'_This war was the end of him, and, though much of his evil and some of his servants remained, he alone of the Valar was driven from the Spheres of the World and now dwells for ever in the void… Until Now…_

**The Void**

Trapped in the void Melkor could do nothing but watch. He saw his former servant rise to become the new Dark Lord of the Age. He saw Sauron fall for the last time and with him the undoing of the trolls, the orcs and the Nazgul.

He saw the line of the Telcontari end in bloodshed as mortal descendants of the Istari revealed themselves to the Men of Middle-Earth. The War of Man and Wizard began, shattering the peace that Aragorn, son of Arathorn had fought so hard for. He watched as the human race fell into anarchy, believing almost everything was some form of magic, that black devil magic that had ended the line of the Telcontari.

The race of the Ents met its end at the hands of man-made steel and fire. The orcs who are now a small community of goblins were hunted to near extinction before the Wizards came to their aid in exchange for their servitude. The same offer was made to the Hobbits, who were being hunted by the race of Men. And in the servitude of the Wizards the Hobbits eventually changed and became known as house-elves. The race of Wizards, as well as several other creatures, slinked off into secrecy, shying away from the vengeful Race of Men. And so, with the Veil of Secrecy being cast upon the world by the Elite of the Wizard race, the War of Man and Wizard was ended.

This war proved to be the last of Middle-Earth, as during the over-thousand year old war Melkor watched as the various power struggles increasingly changed the face of the planet. Eventually the Valar lifted their realm of Valinor up into another plane of existence and Middle-Earth of Arda broke to become the five continents of Earth.

He saw more than wars and bloodshed and the breaking of a past world long forgotten though. He saw love and hate, heard the music of a developing world, witnessed the birth of children and new civilisations, felt the warm rays of the sun upon his scarred cheek and the joy, happiness and yet sorrow and grief of the world, and smelt the haze of an eternal spring. He tasted freedom. But he was here, trapped within the endless eternity of the Void. Oh, how he longed for freedom from this prison of his!

Yet he could do nothing. Nothing but gather his power to him with each passing second, and watch the developing world of Earth. Finally, his chance came to him. A green eyed boy that was destined for greatness was staring at a wand that was aimed at him, the tip glowing a sickly green light. Melkor hadn't just watched the muggle world for an eternity, but also the wizarding world. He knew what was about to happen, and he also knew about the prophesy. The boy was his perfect chance to reclaim the world that was rightfully his. But he wouldn't burn the world to ashes this time; he would instead create new life, a perfect civilisation. And so, with an enormous burst of power equivalent to a thousand nuclear bombs, Melkor forced himself from his prison and into the soul of the green eyed boy known as Harry Potter.


	2. Chapter 2

Cheers for those of you who reviewed! Just to make it clear to you, this will be a powerful + slightly evil Harry, but he won't be super poweful, maybe in the sequel but not yet.

All praises and constructive criticism is welcome.

--

**Eve of Melkor**

_The Dursley Years_

The fury that he felt right now was almost surpassable of the hate that he felt for his brothers and sisters. Almost. Those damn muggles have left his boy in this shit hole of a cupboard for a week now. A bloody week with no food and hardly any water, and all because Harry had ended up on the roof of the school. It was disgusting, as Harry was already practically skin and bones. So it was with a spot of good luck that Melkor was able to constantly rejuvenate the boy's body so that it could keep on going. Melkor had had to repeatedly do this over the years as the muggles kept treating Harry horribly.

Speaking of the devil, it was at that precise moment that Vernon Dursley, young Harry's uncle, flung open the cupboard door and dragged the boy out while spittle flew out of his mouth as the mammoth of a man spoke, "I will not tolerate your freakishness under my roof boy, and let that be a lesson to you! Now get on with weeding the back garden, and not a word from you." After his speech Vernon practically flung Harry out of the back door, causing the young boy to sprain his wrist as he landed rather painfully on his side. Harry's eyes widened almost comically as he was forced to ignore the pain in his wrist and rolled out of the way of the pitchfork that he had seen flying threw the air, courtesy of his dear sweet uncle. The pitchfork landed with a heavy thud as it stabbed into the ground where Harry had lain not ten seconds ago. Harry stared at the garden tool for a few more seconds, dazedly wondering whether his uncle had purposely aimed for him, until he dropped his head onto the lawn, continuing to stare dazedly at the sky now, with the addition of occasional blinking. Harry didn't stay in that position for long however, when his uncle stepped into his line of vision and started yelling at him. "Get off of your lazy arse now boy! You're just like your good for nothing parents, always freeloading off of decent people and never lifting your own weight! Why is it that you people never earn a living and contribute to society? I'll tell you why, it's because you're all freaks! Scumbags! You are not fit to live!" Once again spittle was flying from Vernon's mouth. After the man had given Harry a smack or two for retribution of his laziness, the boy started to plough the flower beds. But all Harry could think about was what Uncle Vernon had said. He was a freeloader. He was a freak. And as the meaning of the words hit Harry, he started to cry. He didn't want to grow up to become like his parents! He didn't want to be a freeloader and a freak. He only wanted his aunt and uncle to love and care for him like they did with Dudley. It was from then on that Harry promised himself that he would become the best that he could be, and contribute to society.

Within Harry's mind, however, Melkor pitied the boy for trying to live up to his uncle's expectations, expectations that he would never reach due to Vernon's sheer animosity towards the boy. In Vernon's eyes Harry would never be an upstanding citizen like himself.

--

_1st Year of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry _

The bloody bastard! He was actually trying to choke Harry. Knowing that he had to be stopped, Melkor did something that he had dared not try before. He brought a fraction of his power to the boy's skin, being lucky enough not to actually destroy the boy. His idea worked just as planned as Quirrell, under the immense of power of the greatest of the Valar (even if it was only a fraction), screamed and writhed due to the pain of his hand disintegrating before his own eyes. "What is this magic?" he hysterically cried out. '_The beginning of your death, infidel!' _Melkor growled out within Harry's mind.

Harry himself, thinking quickly on his feet, lunged towards Quirrell and grabbed a hold of his face, feeling it burn and blister and fall apart beneath is fingers, all the while hearing the agonising shrieks of Quirrell, Voldermort's yells of "KILL HIM! KILL HIM!" and another voice, maybe in his own head, cheers of "Harry! Harry!" At last, Quirrell's screams stopped, and Harry saw Voldemort fly out of the professor's disintegrating body. The boy stood there in the silence, staring down in morbid horror and fascination at the ashes now gathered around the empty robes of Professor Quirrell. He was dead. He, Harry, had just killed a human being. And all he felt was relief, exhaustion and a little bit of unwanted satisfaction. His mind was numb, his breath coming in quick pants. He slowly turned around and glanced upon the cause of all this. The philosopher's stone. He walked towards it, picked it up in his shaking hands, and threw it down on the ground. The silence was briefly shattered with the sound of something like breaking glass, and Harry looked down once again, now staring at the shattered pieces of the stone. Bending down, he picked up a particularly large piece and paced it within his pocket, before falling unconscious with the confusion of what he had just done, and the almost overwhelming power that was flowing just under his skin.

Unbeknownst to Harry, when Melkor had unleashed a fraction of his power to run through Harry, he had unwittingly given Harry an everlasting protection. One that will always forever flow through him just under his skin, even in death. The bond between Harry and Melkor was growing stronger.

--

_2nd Year of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

"_Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four." _The mouth of the statue opened, and out came the basilisk. Melkor, thinking fast, cast a protective magic over Harry's eyes, one that would counteract the basilisk's deadly gaze. Horror-struck, Harry was unable to move, unable to even look away when the monster's gaze was directed at him. Somewhere beyond the horror-struck part of the boy's mind, Harry was thinking thoughts such as, _'Aren't I supposed to drop dead right about now?' _and, _'Those eyes look pretty cool actually.' _Harry was finally spurred into action when the basilisk, confused that the young sapling in front of him hadn't died, decided to lunge at him right at that moment. Diving out of the way, Harry fell right in front of the sorting hat that chortled and said, "Put me on you silly boy! Don't you want to live?" Harry was about to reply when he suddenly ducked his head, the basilisk's tail trashing about overhead. The boy turned to look at the creature and saw what was causing it so much pain. Fawkes was repeatedly dive-bombing into the basilisk's head, pecking out its eyes and clawing its snout.

Harry turned back to the hat as it shouted out, "Put me on you daft boy!" Giving in to the hat's demands, Harry put the sorting hat on his head. With a whispered '_Have fun Mister Potter'_ something very hard and heavy thudded onto the top of the boy's head, almost knocking him out. Stars winking in front of his eyes, Harry grabbed the hat to pull it off and felt something long and hard beneath it. A pure black flail had appeared inside the hat, with gleaming silver letters on the handle. **QUEEN MAB, THE RAVEN CLAW**. It glistened with an unholy power, and yet Harry was addicted to it, so addicted in fact that he was starting to feel something close to arousal. _'Hang on a minute! What the hell am I doing! I can't get aroused now! I'll get myself killed.' _With those thoughts in mind, Harry firmly grabbed a hold of the flail and swung it into the side of the basilisk. The creature instantly died, flying across the chamber, knocking into one of the snake columns and dislodging it from the ceiling. With that single hit, Harry was overcome with a lustful, hungry power. There was a rumbling sound that steadily grew louder in the background as Tom Riddle, overcome with rage, charged at Harry. Yet, spotting the diary on the floor between them, Harry raised the flail and swung it into the diary. The effect was instantaneous. With an inhuman screech the memory of Tom Marvollo Riddle was destroyed in a burst of light as what was left of the diary spewed forth torrents of ink. Yet another burst of power came over Harry, this one feeling cold and poisonous to the touch. The diary was destroyed, the monster of the chamber of secrets had been slayed, and Ginny Weasley was still alive. But at that very moment, Harry didn't care about any of it. He stared, transfixed, at the flail in his hand that had seemingly given him the power of the basilisk and the memory of Tom Riddle. It seemed like it was weightless, and yet it had managed to kill a fully grown basilisk with just one hit.

He had heard of the stories of Merlin and Queen Mab. While Merlin was the virtuous and courageous creator of modern magic and the very symbol of the Light Side, Queen Mab was exactly the opposite. She had been Merlin's ultimate foe, equal to him in every single way. The Wizarding World deemed her to be the founder of black magic, from which sprung necromancy, the dark arts and other similarly dark powers. To think that Queen Mab could create something so magnificent…

Breaking out of his reverie, Harry glanced down at the sorting hat, about to thank it for its help, when he saw something shiny poking out of it. Curious, Harry bent down to pick it up, and found himself looking at the sword of Godric Gryffindor. Thinking quickly, Harry shrunk the flail with his wand, stuffing it in his pocket, and walked towards Ginny while holding the sword. After all, once the school found out what he did he would be proclaimed a light wizard again. There was no need to throw undue suspicion onto him. It was at that moment that Ginny awoke, and seeing Harry standing there, threw herself at him, bawling into his shirt. "It-it was m-me Harry! I-I d-didn't m-mean to! I-I-I" Her wailing suddenly broke off as exhaustion overcame her and she fell into a deep restful sleep. As Fawkes flew down to take the two youngsters to the castle proper before the chamber collapsed and was flooded by the lake directly above their heads, the wise bird couldn't help but wonder if he really should have come to save the boy, all the while piercing Harry with his distrustful gaze.

--

_3rd Year of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

Black was sprawled at the bottom of the wall while Harry walked closer, his wand aimed firmly at the convict's chest. "Going to kill me, Harry?" he whispered. Harry stopped right above him, the urge to kill roaring through him like some demonic beast. "You killed my parents," said Harry, his voice shaking slightly, but his wand hand quite steady. Black looked up at him through those sunken eyes of his, and wheezed in a heavy leaden voice, "I don't deny it, but if you knew the whole story-"

Furiously, with hate burning in his eyes, Harry repeated "The whole story? You sold them to Voldemort, that's all I need to know!" In his mind, Harry thought about the flail that lay within his robe pocket. He was getting more and more tempted by the minute to use the destructive weapon on this disgusting traitor in front of him. To suck the power out of him and make it his own. But the thought of having Hermione know about his precious weapon was horrendous, for he knew that the minute the young bookworm saw it she would go running off to tell Dumbledore, who would obviously remove it from his possession. No, best to use his wand instead.

Harry raised his wand. Now was the moment to do it. But something was holding him back. A faint whisper in his mind. _He is innocent. You could go to Azkaban. You would lose all of your allies. Don't be a fool._

The voice was right, at least partially. He didn't think that Sirius Black was innocent, but the voice was right in that to kill a human being would be seen as falling to the dark, therefore loosing all of his present allies and earning himself a one-way ticket to the dreaded Azkaban. Before he could lower his wand though, the door of the room burst open in a shower of red sparks, and through the door came professor Remus J. Lupin, who immediately cast the disarming spell on Harry and Hermione. Harry, instead of exclaiming that he was never going to curse Sirius (badly), decided to stick with his vengefully pissed of act rather than raise suspicions. The rest of the story, as they say, is self explanatory.

However, deep within Harry's mind, soul and body, Melkor pondered on what he had just done. With the words he had spoken, he had given his prophesised child the gift of eternal patience and slyness. Whether he decided to utilise it or not was another matter entirely. Onto another matter, Melkor was deeply proud of his child for figuring out that Queen Mab must have been an ancestor of Rowena Ravenclaw, one of the four founders of Hogwarts and supposedly a light witch. So, curious and confused about why the hat gave him the flail instead of the sword of Gryffindor, Harry had been doing research on Queen Mab, with no success. About two weeks ago the boy decided to try and find anything he could on Ravenclaw instead, and had only discovered a vague reference in an untitled book, '_The secrets of the Raven lay within the eyes of the Leviathan.'_ Unfortunately, his prophesised child had not yet worked out this little puzzle, but it would only be a matter of time.

_4th Year of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

It was the last day of term, and so many things had happened this year. The Triwizard Tournament had been reinstated at Hogwarts, he had gotten a bit of a crush on Cho Chang, Lord Voldemort had returned and Professor Moody turned out to be a psychotic impostor. The only good thing out of Voldemort returning, however, was that even though the Dark Lord was no longer affected by the protection given to Harry by Melkor, he did not receive any of the Valar's power.

Most importantly, however, he had discovered that the Leviathan was Rowena Ravenclaw's nickname through listening to the Ravenclaw students' conversations. They were no doubt trying to come up with a valid reason of why their house founder would be nicknamed 'Leviathan'. Therefore, it made sense that the Leviathan would be a Ravenclaw. And he had reason to suspect that it was Cho Chang. Apparently, a leviathan was some kind of sea monster, and it just happened to be that Cho's potential animagus form was a sea serpent.

All year he had been trying to get close to her, but Cedric Diggory had kept getting in the way. However, no matter how much he hated it, Cedric Diggory was dead now, and Cho would be vulnerable. He now had a chance to worm his way into the girl's good graces. Soon, he would have the secrets of the Raven, and then… and then…

It was at that moment that Melkor graced young Harry with an undying thirst to survive. He could almost feel it now; the time was coming when his child will walk the path to greatness. Soon.

_5th Year of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

**YES! FINALLY! **He was here, he had done it. He, Harry Potter, was standing in the middle of the Raven's Nest; Rowena Ravenclaw's hidden chambers. In an apparent twist of fate, and irony, Cho had turned out not to be the Leviathan after all. Luna Lovegood was. It also turned out that Rowena Ravenclaw was nicknamed the leviathan because she was a Water Elemental. So was Luna Lovegood. A powerful one. It also turned out, from looking at the bloody huge family tapestry, that he was right in the deduction that Queen Mab was an ancestor of Raven claw. She was the first of the line, and in fluid grace was her name written-

**Lady Mab, the Raven Claw, Eternal Servant of the Valar Lord of Cold and Darkness**

A few lines down was Rowena Ravenclaw's name.

**Lady Rowena of the Line Ravenclaw, Leviathan of the Deep**

Even further down was a name he did not expect to see.

**Morgana the Hag of the Line Ravenclaw, Witch to the Sheriff of Nottingwood**

This name shocked him, as he had thought Morgana, the Sheriff, Little John and Robin Hood were all fictional characters from a muggle fairy tale.What really shocked him though, was the name at the end of a line that had branched off of the original line of Ravenclaw.

**Lady Luna of the Line Lovegood, Regent of the House Ravenclaw, Heiress of the House Lovegood, Leviathan of the Waves**

Now looking frantically at the family tapestry, searching for any familiar names, a feeling of foreboding bloomed in his chest as he found one. Right at the end of the direct line of Ravenclaw. His.

**Lord Bellum of the Line Ravenclaw, Lord Harold James of House Potter, Heir to the Power of the Valar Lord of Cold and Darkness, Boy Who Lived to the Istari Descendants, Bringer of Chaos and Order**

Well. That's one hell of a title.


	3. Chapter 3

Not that many reviews, but who cares! Sorry this took so long, but compared to other things in my life this story isn't very important.

As an answer to JuMiku, yes there will be surviving characters of LotR, as well as a few dead ones.

Now for some action as well as more answers.

All praises constructive criticisms welcome!

--

**The Merging**

Summer again. There was something about summer that just wanted to bring a blood curdling scream to Harry's throat. Ah, yes. The Dursleys. Staring vacantly at the wall across from him, watching the paint peeling, was fifteen year old Harry Potter, soon to be sixteen in four hours' time. Dark shadows could be seen under his eyes, a sign of pondering during the sleeping hours, and even darker thoughts that reflected in the boy's eyes were churning around like a maelstrom inside his mind. Thoughts on what would happen to him on the hour of his magical maturity, and what he could do to the Dursleys with his newly gained power. Never in his wildest dreams would Harry have thought that his soul, his very essence, would merge with the ancient behemoth that was Melkor, the Vala of Cold and Darkness. And yet the boy, soon to be a man, was frightened. Frightened of what he might become with the power of a god, frightened of what he had already become. By all accounts that Harry had read in the Raven's Nest, it was Melkor that had spawned all the evils that existed in the world today, all the discordant emotions that lead towards violence, feuds, wars, murders… 

Rusty springs creaked as Harry crawled off his bed, stretched his arm out beneath it and pulled out the loose floorboard. Reaching into the space and pulling out his photo album Harry thought about all the other things he had found in the Raven's Nest behind the portrait of the mermaid in the prefect's bathroom, courtesy of Luna Lovegood's assistance. A faint smile crossed his face as he thought that; evidently, Luna was definitely not as loony as she looked. There was of course the apparent family portrait that undeniably showed that he, Harold James Potter, was not only the heir of a founder, but was the last direct descendant of the infamous Queen Mab. Not forgetting, of course, that dear Luna was a distant cousin of his.

There was also the discovery of several journals that were hand written by Queen Mab, who was the very last mortal servant of Melkor. One of the exploits detailed was the first goblin rebellion, which was instigated by Queen Mab herself. Other information that Harry found interesting was that the Goblins of today were originally a race created by Melkor that had once been one of the most powerful evils in the world. But nothing Harry found could top what he considered to be the most vital piece of information that he hoped would help him survive. A prophesy made by Queen Mab. A prophesy that stated:

_Dark Lord of soul and snake he may be, _

_Yet his power will wane before the Bringer of Chaos and Order_

_Darkness shall churn and Light will sing in the _

_Coming of Revolution._

_The real challenger, of light and wizards' blood,_

_Come storming through the gates of Heaven._

_And blood shall be spilt in the Freedom of the Wicked_

_The storm will rage and waken The Demon, _

_Disguised as beauty and pureness._

_Yet through jealousy and rage will she try to bleed this world dry._

_Only her own creation can pierce her rotten heart. _

_A war, a revolution, an old grudge, _

_Before peace reigns true on Earth._

_Valinor, the next conquest._

Harry had no clue as to what this prophesy could mean, but he was fairly sure that the '_Dark Lord of soul and snake'_ was Voldemort, and that the '_Bringer of Chaos and Order' _was himself. One thing he was decided on though was that there would be a war, and a long and bloody one at that. With the powers of a Vala at his disposal, Harry was determined that he would be the one to win it. Opening his photo album to the page of his parents wedding, and seeing the happiness and laughter and tears of joy, Harry bowed his head in unending sadness and promised himself that he would not see families all over the world torn asunder. A promise made in vain Harry realised it may be, but he had to make it all the same, if only to try and protect his conscience from the raging storm of the coming war. 

Three and a half hours to go. Boredom as well as trepidation set in. He needed to do something. Anything! He knew that he couldn't stay here, as the monitoring charms on the house would more likely than not pick up the burst of power of his merging with the Vala soul. Making up his mind, knowing that what he was about to do would set him on an irreversible path, Harry took hold of his wand, shrunk his trunk and put it in his trouser pocket and released his faithful owl Hedwig from her cage. He would have to be swift now as the ministry would have picked up that show of magic almost instantly.

Three hours and twenty minutes later, Harry had made his way to a cheap motel room in the heart of London. Sitting down on the couch, Harry rested his feet on the table while calmly watching Parkinson interview Whoopi Goldberg on the TV. Only ten minutes to go.

--

_Ten minutes later,_

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,_

_Headmaster's Office_

Sleek silver contraptions were laid out over the majority of the spindly wooden desks. And in the throne like chair that sat behind the great oak desk in the centre of the grand office was one Albus Dumbledore. Right now, of course, Dumbledore was wondering where Harry Potter had gone. Not only had the Ministry's monitors picked up the burst of magic from 4 Privet Drive, but so had his. Dumbledore breathed a weary sigh. Things were not going his way. The damn boy had fled his house, and with it the blood wards that protected him during the summer. Fudge was constantly on his case about the Department of Mysteries debacle, wanting Harry and his friends to go on trial for breaking and entering the department, as well as destroying ministry property. And his scheme to open Harry's mind up to Voldemort had failed spectacularly. It seemed that no matter how many holes Severus made in Harry's natural mental defences, they always repaired themselves, which should have been theoretically impossible to do without any training in the art of occlumency. This now made Dumbledore's plan to have Harry's soul join with Voldemort's unattainable. It seemed that he would have to train Harry to defeat Voldemort after all, once he found the boy that is. 

The old headmaster was brought out of his musings as one of his many instruments began emitting a high pitched squeal. He moved over to the instrument, a solid silver triangle that floated within the ever-moving polished iron rings. As the squealing grew in pitch, the rings sped up their movement, until the shape of the triangle was blurred. With a snap, the rings stopped moving, the triangle showing a clear view of a cheap motel room on its surface. The high pitched squealing had stopped, but what attracted Dumbledore's attention was the boy that was lying on the ground in the middle of the cheap motel room. Harry Potter. 

"So there you are, my dear, _dear _boy…" Dumbledore set off immediately for that cheap motel room, in the centre of London.

--

_Same time,_

_Unknown Location_

Voldemort suddenly lifted his head from the schematics of Azkaban Prison, feeling a head rush of enormous power reverberating around his mind having originated from a connection he had only recently become aware of. A connection that led to the mind of Harry Potter. Eyes narrowing in both hatred and anticipation, the Dark Lord beckoned forward the huddled figure of a being more rat than man, and sibilantly said, "Wormtail, it appears that our, _friend_, young Harry has surfaced from the hidey hole that Dumbledore spirited him away to. I go now to claim my vengeance, and if anything should happen to the schematics I shall be most displeased. Understood?"

"But-but master, my lord, why not send your servants in your stead?" Pettigrew called out as his master stalked through the doors and headed for the apparition point outside wards of his own design. The balding man stood alone in the derelict ball room, moth-eaten curtains barely hiding the contents within from the moonlight outside, as his master's quickly fading voice echoed back to him. "My death eater numbers are too few and would not last if they encountered any resistance, you fool! I shall deal with the boy myself. Once and for all."

Pettigrew's huddled form started to shake, his breathing becoming more and more shallow with every step that his master took to the apparition point, to the son of the man he willingly betrayed. His watery eyes slowly slid shut as tear tracks started to mark his face. And as the bitter chill seeped into his bones the sinner brokenly whispered, "I'm sorry… I'm sorry……I'm s-sorry."

--

_Five minutes later,_

_Ministry of Magic,_

_Auror Offices_

Panic ensued as people rushed about, being trampled in the stampede as alarms blared all around. Rufus Scrimgeour, the recently promoted Minister of Magic, stood in the middle of his former domain, waiting for the rest of his troops to scrabble to a halt in front of him. Trepidation as well as fierce determination filled his aging body as the realisation quickly struck him that what he was about to send his loyal aurors into would be the first real battle of the second serpents war. The former auror Head had only been minister for a few weeks, shoved into the hot seat where reputations quickly crumbled, but he'd be damned if he let the ministry itself crumble into ruin during the storm that had swiftly gathered. Rufus would not let the foulness that was the Dark taint the pinnacle of justice that the ministry should have been any longer, and not the cesspit of corruption that same Darkness had morphed it into. 

As the last of the aurors fell into line, Rufus wondered briefly how much of a fight he would have on his hands to beat back the corruption that currently had a stranglehold on the ministry, his ministry. 

"My comrades, today a power surge like nothing we've ever recorded has been tracked to the heart of downtown London, where we are fairly confident a battle is taking place. As of this moment, in order to keep the peace, I am ordering you to use lethal force if necessary. We are at war people, there can be no prisoners. Understood?" 

It was a grim speech, but one that he had to make. No one spoke. Not any objections at all. Good. With a wave of his hand, Minister Scrimgeour sent his troops into battle, not knowing the full consequences of his decision. The alarms never stopped blaring.

--

_Downtown London_

Of all the things that Nymphadora Tonks had seen in her relatively young life, nothing could top what she was seeing now. The bloodiness of war. The moment the contingent of aurors had apparated into the apparent battle taking place in the heart of London, Benjamin Knightsbridge, only twenty-one, had his right ear cut off, his torso shredded to pieces, and his left eye boiled in quick succession. While the rest of the aurors flew into the attack, Tonks flew down to Benjamin's side, hoping that her limited array of healing spells would help him live. He died five minutes later, curled into her arms and whimpering like an injured animal with his last dying breaths. And now she stood, covered in her work mate's warm blood, watching as Albus Dumbledore and Lord Voldemort fought while the other aurors tried to assist the headmaster and died for their troubles. To Tonks it seemed the two mages fought like wild dogs, trying to tear lumps out of each other and not caring who got caught in the middle. And all for what, dominance? 

"TONKS! Get over here, we need you!" screamed Shaklebolt. Tonks looked over to see Kingsely, the new auror head, directing the surviving troops to take cover and deflect any spells the Dark Lord tried to use against Dumbledore. Instead of doing as she was told, the flighty young auror raised her wand high above her head and bellowed her first words since apparating to the battle, "FOR BENJY!" With that short proclamation Nymphadora Tonks charged towards Voldemort all the while shooting spells in quick succession, only to get in the way of both mages curses. And so Tonks died of a shattered spine and a ruptured heart.

Kingsley and all remaining aurors cried out in dismay and redoubled their efforts in hindering Voldemort's attack on Dumbledore, causing the dark lord to snarl in rage and apparate out of the fight. With the battle now done with, the Hogwarts Headmaster turned to the surviving aurors and with a commiserating tone uttered, "It is with a heavy heart that I thank you for driving Voldemort away at the cost of your comrades, yet they have not died in vain. Rest assured the dark lord shall be defeated, no matter how many more lives it must take. I wish you all the best of luck in the coming war." The venerated Headmaster then disapparated back to Hogwarts, unknowing of the damage he had just caused to his reputation among the aurors.

--

_Lovegood Manor,_

_Living Room_

The décor was rather pleasing, Harry supposed. The light blues and tarnished greys went well together, although the only downside in his opinion was that the living room looked so stately that it didn't even look lived in. It did not have that homey feel to it. Lifting the china teacup he had to his lips and taking a sip of the creamy tea Harry thought back on how he had come to be in the living room of the Lovegood's. It turned out that all Lovegood's possessed the knowledge of the location of the Raven's Nest, and so had passed it on to each new generation. Although it seemed that not only did the Lovegoods know the location of the Raven's Nest, each generation had visited it frequently, coming to learn about the prophesy and thereafter swearing to assist the Bringer of Chaos and Order in any way they could. Which means that Luna and her father knew about his true identity even before he did, thereby leading to them both keeping a watch on his house at the beginning of this summer. And so when he left the Dursley's to venture into the heart of downtown London they followed him. 

The bottom line of the tale is that when he got into his hotel room Luna and her father made their presence known to him and proceeded to explain that when his magical maturity occurred he would more likely than not be knocked out by the effects. What was even more worrying to him at the time was that the force of his magic maturing and his powers becoming godly would indubitably send out a shockwave that would alert both the ministry and the dark lord, as well as possibly Dumbledore, to his presence in London. So a minute after his magical maturation had occurred the two Lovegoods transported both themselves and Harry to their home by use of a portkey they had made beforehand. 

All in all Harry was rather pleased by the outcome of events; he could imagine perfectly Dumbledore scratching his bearded chin in puzzlement as to the unknown location of his golden boy. And here he was sitting in a safe location basking in his recently matured power, which was disturbingly faintly shining through his skin, making him look like a human light bulb no doubt. He raised the china teacup to his lips for a second sip when it was knocked out of his hands by the Lovegood patriarch, who was flying from his position next to Harry on the sofa with his wand in hand towards the foyer. The young man's confusion was solved by Luna's utterance, "Don't worry Harry, Daddy's just gone to deal with someone who has breached the manor's wards."

Oh dear, thought Harry wryly, not so safe after all then.


End file.
